COUNT
YOUR BLESSINGS
It is said any chain is as strong as the weakest link. Well, we are the final link in a long and complex transport chain, delivering humanitarian aid to desperate people, sometimes ravaged by natural disaster, wars, famine and the like. This chain normally starts in the 1st world and extends, via quite a few suppliers and agents, through us down to the people at "ground zero".
It is also so that our end of the chain is as far away from the 1st world as it gets, apart from the humanitarian staff working amongst the affected population, physically distributing the aid and rendering what assistance they can. For us it means limited air traffic control, rough fields and regular incursions of live stock and people onto the runway, but ultimately friendly faces and smiles of relief as much wanted aid arrives, literally for them, from the heavens. Days are hot, really, really hot, and the nights are just hot. Monster thunderstorms and sandstorms focus your attention while language barriers teach you the principles of communication, teamwork and diplomacy.
The unsung heroes are the volunteers at "ground zero" spending up to nine months in the most basic conditions imaginable labouring to aid such not so fortunate people. Braving malaria and other diseases, no running water or ablutions, I have not heard them complain one bit, as they strive to help those around them. Once I was told in a small community 300 children are being treated for malnutrition but 500 have malaria, and my thoughts are slapped back to the harsh reality of humanitarian work. This is why we are here, to help make this type of aid happen.
Sometimes a person will be injured beyond the abilities of the very rudimentary medical aid available. In all probability, this person has never set foot on an aircraft and does not understand what is about to happen. Nobody on board speaks his/her language, all they know is that they are in pain and are going to be taken away from all that they know. All you can do is try to smile reassuringly, pat them on the shoulder and make the flight as comfortable as you can. And you are grateful for what you have.
A hard day's work will see you exhausted, hot and quite dirty. Going home after refuelling and helping the engineer putting the aircraft to sleep, your thoughts wander to home, to all your loved ones that you miss and all the comforts of home, not mentioning high quality food, clean water and all the rest of what we tend to take for granted. Your eyes roam over the absolute poverty around you, the underfed children (running and laughing nonetheless) and you think, count your blessings, even in discomfort and away from those we love, comparatively we are living like kings. At the very least we have food, shelter and medical aid on call, all which they do not have.
We at the field are but one link in the chain. Our link also has its unsung heroes, the staff back home working their mystery jobs without which none of this is possible, the clearances, insurance certificates, complex payment schedules, shuffling of spares and people, so many behind the scenes jobs that sometimes continue far into the night to make the next day happen.
Quite frankly, no airline job for me. To be able to go to sleep and know you were part, albeit a small part, of the humanitarian effort and because of what was done today, someone's life is just that little better, is special. I think were Wilbur and Orville Wright still alive, they would smile their approval and say: "This is why we invented flying".